Leader of Mice and Men
by ASIG
Summary: ***Story COMPLETE*** In a battle of mind and heart, Veronica faces an enemy with incredible power!!! Some M/R!!! Please R&R!!!
1. Round 1

          Challenger's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. A look of fear settled in on his face, and he gulped.

          "No," he shouted, anxiety stricken, "not you, you can't be alive!"

          "Come on, old boy," Roxton said with a smile, "time to pay the Piper."

          Roxton cocked his pistol, and his finger started to pull the trigger as he smiled treacherously. A bead of sweat rolled down Challenger's face; he could not actually believe what his friend was about to do.

          Just feet away, with only a few trees and bushes separating them from Challenger, were Veronica and Malone. Veronica heard enough to recognize the voice of George Challenger. Something was wrong, and she was ready to move fast and take action. Malone jumped back, as Veronica swiftly left his side and dashed off into the jungle brush.

          "Veronica," he called, "wait!" Malone stepped through the jungle trying to find her again—instead he found something else.

          "Going somewhere, Malone," Marguerite said, her eyes bulging wildly as she stuck the butt of her rifle into Malone's chest. Malone sighed and bowed his head, recognizing this behavior, and realizing his defeat.

          Roxton threw his head back and laughed wickedly—pulling the trigger of his pistol ever so slowly, reveling in the moment.

          Veronica came swinging from a vine out of the trees and into the clearing.

          "Oh no you don't!" she shouted.

          Letting go of the vine, Veronica swooped down and was able to knock Roxton's hand to the side, just as the gun discharged. The bullet narrowly missed Challenger's head. Challenger remained on the ground, breathing heavy, trying to regain his composure, but his old muscles wouldn't let him move.

          "You lose!" Veronica shouted at Roxton.

          Roxton's eyes widened, a scowl forming on his face. How dare this woman interrupt him. The old man could not get far, and Roxton would put this wily little thing in her place first.

          "We'll see about that," Roxton responded bitterly to Veronica.

          Seconds later, they heard a gun shot. Then Marguerite emerged from the jungle and into the clearing, cocky in demeanor and blowing the smoke away from the tip of her rifle.

          "Malone," Veronica realized that Marguerite had just shot him, "No!"

          This distraction was enough for Roxton to move. He quickly raised his pistol and fired at Veronica, aiming for her heart.

          Veronica reacted quickly—working strictly off of instinct now, but she did not react quickly enough. She managed to dodge the fatal hit, but still took the bullet in her calf. She limped to run from Roxton who walked toward her cocking his pistol again. Marguerite kneeled down and began to take aim with her rifle. Veronica quickly pulled out one of her knives and threw it at Marguerite. Her accuracy was perfect, and the knife smacked into the wooden handle of the rifle, knocking it from Marguerite's hand.

          Roxton was next. He fired a shot at Veronica head, but she was able to duck and avoid it. She quickly rose, pulled out another knife and threw at Roxton, but as she threw it, the pain from her wound caught up to her, and she faltered just as she released the knife. Roxton had cleverly arranged himself between Veronica and Challenger. The knife came at him quickly, but was a little off target, and easy for Roxton to side step and avoid. The knife kept going with a deadly velocity, and hit Challenger instead, right near the heart.

          Veronica gasped, wincing in pain. Tears began to form in her eyes. She failed; Challenger and Malone were dead. She was too wounded to run anywhere, and she was fresh out of knives—while Roxton and Marguerite, had plenty of bullets.

          Then, all of the sudden, as if in a fairy tail, everything changed; the sky became dark as the moon eclipsed the sun, and all of her friends vanished in the blink of an eye. Veronica was alone. She rose to her feet, her wound still there, but no longer hurting. She heard the faint sound of a flute playing. She strained her ears to figure out where it was coming from, but it seemed to come from everywhere. Then, as if not in control of her body, Veronica stared up at the eclipsed sun. Seconds later, everything went black, all became silent, and finally her thoughts simply shut off.

          Veronica opened her eyes and yawned. She slowly sat up in her bed, and was surprised to see how bright it was outside. She had slept in, which was not too common. Not for Veronica at least. Marguerite on the other hand…

          Veronica promptly got dressed and walked out into the kitchen to get some fruit for breakfast. Malone, who was sitting at the table, bolted up immediately when he saw Veronica.

          "Veronica," Malone said excitedly, "I took your advice and made some abstract sketches to go along with my journals to add depth and all that stuff we were talking about. Wanna see?"

          "Malone," Veronica said, "you already showed them to me."

          "But I just finished them this morning," Malone said slowly and confused, "I haven't shown them to anyone yet."

          Veronica blinked quickly, and thought about it. For an instant, she could have sworn Malone and her went over his work. But then she realized that while she tried to help his skills and gave him the idea, she had no clue what he had decided to draw. She couldn't visualize them either. It was strange though, like dejá vu. As soon as she put some real thought into it though, she knew that she had not in fact seen Malone's sketches.

          "You're right," Veronica said, "I don't know what I was thinking. I must still be a little groggy."

          "You sure did sleep in late," Malone commented, "any reason why you'd be overly sleepy?"

          "No," Veronica said, "nothing I can think of. It's strange."

          "Well," Malone told her, "if anyone deserves some extra rest, it's you."

          "Thanks," said Veronica, munching on a peach, "now, let's see these sketches."

          "Sure thing," Malone said joyfully as the two sat down at the table, "I've done three for now. Here's the first one."

          "A tree," Veronica commented, "very simple." She studied the drawing more carefully. "But all these trees in the background, great detail. The clouds in the sky, the stream off in the distance, and the slight incline of the terrain… Hey, I even know this place."

          "Not one of the most beautiful spots on the plateau," Malone told her, "but it's where I first picked up on that mutual attraction between us—right after we first arrived."

          "Yes," Veronica said thoughtfully, "and I as I recall we had to sneak away from dinosaurs."

          "That was my plan," Malone said, "we tried yours later, and diving through the legs of a T-Rex isn't something I'd care to do again."

          Veronica laughed and Malone handed her his next drawing.

          "The waterfall," Veronica said, her tone becoming grimmer.

          "It's always meant something to me," Malone said, "and I feel I owe it to Summerlee somehow."

          "It is where…" Veronica did not want to call him dead because they had never confirmed that, "…where he was lost. But I must say, Malone, you do a nice job at capturing the fall off. With this overhead view of the river, it looks like the water is actually flowing deeper into the paper. This isn't easy to draw."

          "I did put in a lot of effort," Malone said.

          "And it shows," Veronica told him, nodding with approval and satisfaction of the sketch.

          "Here's the last one," Malone said handing it to her.

          "A Raptor," Veronica said, "why a Raptor?"

          "It seems like of all our dinosaur friends, we run into these guys the most," Malone said.

          "Ah," said Veronica, "well, again you do a nice job of capturing the detail."

          "I'm glad you like them," Malone said, "I couldn't have done it without your advice."

          "I guess I'll take that as a compliment," Veronica trailed off, looking around the treehouse all of the sudden.

          "Looking for something?" Malone asked, wondering why she had begun to look all around her.

          "No…" Veronica said, facing Malone again, "Is it just me," she asked, "or is it unusually quiet around here?"

          "Not just you," Malone assured her, "Challenger's observing some sort of bug in the lab, and Marguerite and Roxton went off together."

          Veronica got up and began tidying up the breakfast clutter her friends had made. Veronica kind of took on the job of keeping the treehouse orderly, making sure everything was in its proper place, and that the general surroundings looked presentable for any guests that might stumble into their lives. She did it because no one else cared more than she did. Veronica did not mind the work. In fact, she felt that it somehow reflected well on her parents, since the Layton's were the ones who originally gave most of their equipment, books, and utensils a home.

          Veronica began putting some of the coffee cups away, and asked, "I didn't know they had anywhere to go today?"

          "It's not a matter of necessity," Malone told her, gathering his journals he had spread across the table, "they wanted to have a picnic."

          "A picnic," Veronica repeated uneasily, "uh-oh…"

          "What's wrong with that?" Malone asked sincerely.

          Veronica paused for a moment, "I really don't know," Veronica said plainly, "I must just be remembering last time they went off on a picnic."

          Malone chuckled, "I don't know if that's fair; that wasn't even them last time. Remember, they stumbled into that cave, where they were trapped and it was their duplicates that were high on the picnics."

          "That's true," Veronica admitted, "but can you honestly say you think everything will go over smoothly?"

          Malone, who had gathered all of his journals and drawings together now, tapped his pencil on the table as he took a moment to think about Veronica's question.

          He stood up and said, "No comment," and then he walked away.

          Veronica laughed, and continued tidying up the treehouse.

          "Roxton," Marguerite screeched, "I can't believe you spilled all over me!"

          "I've already apologized five times, Marguerite," Roxton said in a state of aggravation, "besides, I don't see what the big deal is, it's only water."

          "Yes," Marguerite sneered, "but now I'm all wet, and with this accursed wind it's making me cold."

          "Well," flirted Roxton, "maybe I can do something about that."

          He leaned in closer to her and moved in to kiss her softly. Roxton patiently continued his lunge, despite Marguerite turning her head the other way. Finally, Marguerite pushed him aside and got to her feet.

          "Don't you go getting close to me," she warned, "especially when you're breath smells like Raptor."

          Roxton sighed, looking up at her from his knees.

          "And who's idea was it to bring that, Marguerite?" Roxton snapped angrily.

          "I only did it because I know how much you like meat," Marguerite revealed.

          Roxton stopped yelling, and took a more gentle tone. He hadn't realized that Marguerite of all people went to the trouble of thinking about someone else other than herself. And the most amazing thing of all was that he was the person she was thinking about.

          "I didn't realize that," Roxton said.

          "Yes," Marguerite said, trying to remain bitter since she could still feel her wet shirt clinging to her clammy skin in the wild breeze, "and look how you repay me." Marguerite gestured toward her wet clothing.

          Roxton found himself feeling incredibly guilty and was not certain how to proceed from here. However, the strangest of occurrences intervened, and both Roxton and Marguerite found that their attention shifted to a new sound that came fluttering onto their hostile picnic scene.

          "Is that a flute?" Marguerite asked, hearing the high-pitched tone.

          "I think it is," Roxton agreed, rising to his feet, "the question is, where's it coming from?"

          "There's nobody around here is there?" Marguerite asked.

          Roxton looked around. "Look," he pointed, "there's a cave over there at the base of that hill."

          "That must be where it's coming from," Marguerite reasoned.

          "Let's go find out," Roxton ventured.

          The two walked toward the cave, but something was not right. At first, neither of them noticed it. Then they each got that sickening feeling in their stomachs, a natural warning of sorts. They stopped in front of the cave entrance, and Marguerite finally put their awkward feeling into words.

          "The sound isn't getting any louder," Marguerite said, "it still sounds so distant."

          "Yes," Roxton said, realizing she was right, "you stay out here, I'll go look around and make sure it's safe."

          Roxton entered the cave. Not much of a cave. Off to the right was a large stalagmite that covered the whole area between the floor and the ceiling. The cave consisted of a small path that circled around this stalagmite, and that was all there was. Roxton reasoned that whoever was playing the flute, must be on the far side of the massive post. Roxton slowly began walking around the stalagmite; again the pitch of the music remained constant, giving no indication that he was closing in on the source. He circled the stalagmite, but nothing was there. He stood still, not understanding this phenomenon, but content to go back outside. That is, until a light shining behind him appeared out of the blue, and captured the hunter's attention.

          Roxton circled back to reveal that a doorway had appeared somewhere in the stalagmite. Roxton could not see too far into the opening because of the strong rays of white light emanating from somewhere within the stalagmite's center. Inside the doorway, was a man playing a flute. He spotted Roxton, and stopped playing. The man was not very tall, a bit shorter than Roxton actually. He was plump to say the least, and wore a tuxedo, with purple pants, a purple bowtie, a purple jacket, and a fancy white dress shirt beneath it all, complete with wavy ruffles that added to the elegance of the outfit. He had a round face, dominated by a thick, black mustache. His head was half bald, and featured black hair that was thinning on the top.

          "I heard your music," Roxton explained, "It peaked my curiosity. Who are you?"

          "I am the Piper," the man explained, with a deep, commanding, powerful voice, yet it somehow put Roxton at ease instead of capturing an astute attention from him.

          "The Piper?" Roxton repeated, thinking that sounded a bit odd.

          "Yes," the man reiterated, "the Pied Piper. And you owe me now; one and three."

          "One and three?" Roxton asked, not understanding what that meant.

          "Yes," the Piper repeated, "one alive, and three dead."

          Roxton did not like the sound of this, but before he could walk away, the Piper put his flute to his lips, and played five simple notes. Then his lips released the flute, and the Piper stared at Roxton, a wide grin stretching across his face.

          "The music," Roxton said after a few seconds, "it won't stop… it just keeps repeating… those five notes, over and over."

          "Yes," the Piper said simply.

          Roxton became uneasy; he took a few steps backward.

          "Make it stop," Roxton pleaded, "I can't… I can't take it. Make it… make it stop."

          The Piper laughed. Roxton, becoming increasingly aggravated, covered his ears with his hands, and continued backing up until he bumped into the wall of the cave. 

"Do not fight it," the Piper instructed Roxton, "embrace it. Let the music control you—guide you. You must pay; you owe me."

Roxton stopped fidgeting and regained his composure. But it was not like normal; he was emotionless, expressionless, programmed in some sense. Like a blind mouse following the enchanting sound. No longer did the notes from the flute pound on Roxton's eardrums, but they now danced across his mind, laying the foundation for the path that he would gladly follow.

"Yes," Roxton said, showing that he understood, "I owe you. One alive; three dead."

Roxton came out of the cave, very serious. He grabbed Marguerite's arm, and began guiding her back toward the site of their picnic.

"Come Marguerite," Roxton told her with a monotone voice, "we're going back to the treehouse."

Of course, Marguerite did not readily accept this. "What about the cave," she asked, "the flute music, what happened in there?"

"There's nothing to see here," Roxton said.

"Oh," said Marguerite, "I'm not so sure about that. There must be something to see, but for whatever reason you don't want me to know what it is. I have half a mind to go in there and take a look myself."

"I said there's nothing to see," Roxton insisted.

Marguerite sighed in frustration, "Haven't we argued enough for one day?"

Roxton just gave her a cold, blank stare, not backing down.

"Fine," Marguerite conceded, "there's nothing to see. We'll just pack up our things and head back to the treehouse."

          Roxton and Marguerite arrived at the treehouse later that afternoon. Roxton spotted Veronica working on her garden, and sprang into action. He dropped his pack, and went through the gate, safely crossing the barrier of the electric fence. Marguerite, who was off balance due to the minimal conversation Roxton offered on their return trip to the treehouse, cautiously followed him.

          Veronica saw them, and looked up, "Back already," she commented.

          Roxton raised his rifle and pointed it at Veronica. "Get up," he instructed her.

          Veronica did not know what was going on, but she identified the look on Roxton's face to be one not to mess with, and she quietly obeyed.

          Marguerite could not believe what she was witnessing. For the first time since Roxton had come out of the cave, she realized for sure that something was very wrong.

          "Roxton!" she exclaimed, genuinely appalled by his behavior.

          Roxton quickly turned around, grabbed Marguerite's arm and flung her to the ground, stunning her long enough to move. He grabbed Veronica with one hand, some rope that they used as a clothesline to dry laundry was snatched in his other hand. He tied Veronica's hands and pushed her hard to the ground. Just as Marguerite collected herself after Roxton's blow, he had more of the rope in hand and tied her hands as well. Then, Roxton dragged them both to their feet, and drew his pistols, jamming each woman in the back with the tip of a gun.

          "We're leaving," Roxton announced.

          Veronica turned to face him, "Where are we going?" she demanded.

          Roxton, pistol still in hand, smacked her on the side of the head. No cut because the blow was received far enough on the cap of the skull to be covered by Veronica's hair. Roxton dragged her back to her feet and pushed her forward.

          "Next time," Roxton told her sourly, "no warnings, I simply pull the trigger."

          As he led his captives away, Roxton picked up his pack again. Marguerite and Veronica silently allowed Roxton to escort them away from the treehouse and out into the jungle. 

          Malone watched, as Roxton, Marguerite, and Veronica disappeared out of sight. Roxton was not aware that Malone had watched this, and from what Malone observed, that was a good thing. He quickly got Challenger and described the events he watched take place.

          "That is strange," Challenger agreed, "and I'm sure there is an explanation. But first things first: Veronica and Marguerite may potentially be in a very dangerous situation. Hopefully, we can still find where they are."

          Challenger brought out one of their telescopes and began scanning the landscape. After several minutes, he stopped and smiled.

          "There," he told Malone, "it appears they're resting."

          Malone took the telescope from Challenger, and looked at them. Veronica and Marguerite were sitting back to back—Roxton was looming nearby, the threat of shooting them lingering on. Roxton was drinking some water, and began to give some to Veronica and Marguerite when Malone put down the telescope.

          "We have to do something," Malone said.

          "I agree," Challenger said, "let's quickly gather our weapons and some water, hopefully we can catch up to them before they start moving again."

          Malone and Challenger both promptly began on this task.

          "Any idea as to the extent of Veronica's injury?" Challenger wanted to know.

          "It's hard to tell," Malone told him, "but it looked bad. She seemed to have trouble walking straight when she got to her feet."

          "She may have gotten a concussion," Challenger revealed, "but hopefully it is more mild than that. If we're to capture Roxton without harming him, Veronica's help will be instrumental."

          "If he hurts her…" Malone trailed off.

          "It's best to wait until we can make a more accurate assessment of the situation, Malone," Challenger said, attempting to ease his friend's rage.

          "I know," Malone said, and then he perked up, noting that the weapons and water had all been packed, "let's go."

          Roxton set down his pack and supplies. He started walking past Marguerite and Veronica heading for the stream just a few feet away to refill his canteen. As he passed Veronica, she stuck out her leg. Roxton tripped, stumbled, but did not fall down. He stood up, pulled out one of his pistols, aiming it right between her eyes at point blank range.

          "That," Roxton informed her, "was a very stupid move."

          However, after that enraged comment, his demeanor softened, and he bent down to face her at eye level. He lightly brushed her cheek with the tip of his gun and spoke to her.

          "Of course," Roxton said, "I can spare your life. All you have to do is make things a little easier for the both of us. You've got to admit, the only thing this trip is missing is entertainment."

          Veronica spit in his face. Roxton closed his eyes, stood up, and wiped her saliva from his face with his forearm. He looked down at her, smiling, and putting his pistol away.

          "I shall enjoy the moment of your death," Roxton told her, "You can't win," he added, "it is in my destiny to prevail."

          "To the victor go the spoils," Marguerite said.

          Roxton now turned his attention toward her.

          "Come on," Marguerite urged, "I'll show you a good time."

          A cynical smile formed on Roxton's face, and he shook his head. Apparently, he still had a lot of awareness when it came to who his friends were, and what they would try to do. Roxton was not about to allow Marguerite to seduce him into anything. Roxton diverted his attention back to refilling his canteen, and walked off toward the stream.

          Marguerite stomped her foot on the ground in frustration. "Damn him," she shouted.

          "Do you know what's gotten into him?" Veronica asked.

          "Not totally," Marguerite said carefully, deciding not to mention the cave, "something happened to him on our picnic… it's like he's a different man."

          "Yeah," Veronica said furiously, "well, this new Roxton, I think I might kill him."

          "Is your head doing alright after that hit you took?" Marguerite asked.

          "I'm okay," Veronica told her, "nothing serious; just a little bump."

          At the stream, Roxton stood, his canteen full, and as his gaze wandered to across the stream, he saw Challenger standing there.

          "Roxton," Challenger said, "don't get excited, I just want to talk."

          Roxton was no dummy. If Challenger was here, but not Malone, then he must be freeing the women. Roxton ran back toward them. Challenger jumped over the shallow stream and followed.

          Meanwhile, Malone had just finished untying Veronica and Marguerite, when Roxton burst in on the scene. Malone motioned for Veronica and Marguerite to stay back and move off to the side; they followed his lead, not knowing what to expect from Roxton.

          "Roxton," Malone said, "take it easy…"

          Roxton, with lightning speed, drew one of his pistols and fired at Malone. Malone jerked his head to the side, but the shot still managed to graze his ear.

          Challenger saw no other choice; he raised his rifle and shot Roxton in the back. The impact caused Roxton to jump. He turned around and faced Challenger, who fired again, nailing Roxton in the heart. He seemed to take this bullet in as well, but before long, he fell to the ground.

          "Roxton!" Marguerite cried.

          Veronica was worried about Malone. "Is that ear okay?" she asked.

          Malone touched it gingerly, and brought his hand away to find blood, but he did not want to worry about his ear right now. "It's fine," he told Veronica.

          Challenger kneeled down and examined Roxton. After thirty seconds or so, he rose.

          "He's dead," Challenger announced, "oh God, what have I done?"

          "You did everything you could to try to stop him," Malone said, "he left you no choice."

          Challenger was speechless.

          "Stubborn," Marguerite said, tears in her eyes, "right up until the end, even when he wasn't quite himself."

          Despite the treehouse being only minutes away, the explorers decided to bury Roxton there, and spend the night out in the jungle, with a campfire, and uncomfortable quarters. This night would serve as a chance to honor Roxton's memory, and it was fitting somehow, since all of them knew that in some sense Roxton enjoyed the nights out in the wilderness the most.

          That night, after the others were asleep, Marguerite went over to Roxton's grave, marked by a little cross in the ground. She kneeled before it.

          As she cried, Marguerite spoke to Roxton, "I didn't tell the others about the cave," she began. "I'm going to go there now. I know, I know, and it probably is a bad idea, but I have to find out what happened to you there. I have to know, John. I have to know what it was that led to the end of your life."

          With that, Marguerite gathered a canteen and a rifle, and headed out into the jungle, alone at night, going to the cave where Roxton's alteration of some sort occurred.

          Little did Ms. Krux know, that Roxton could hear her speech. None of them could have realized that the Piper's control of Roxton unlocked a mental discipline within him. His mind could heal injury hundreds of times faster now. In essence, he could not die. Even the bullet to the heart, was not enough to kill him. He was able to dig his way out of the crude grave the others had made for him without waking anyone. 

          The next morning, Malone woke up to find Roxton's grave dug up and Marguerite missing. Challenger had used part of Roxton's vest to provide a makeshift bandage for Malone. After noticing this, Malone woke up Veronica and Challenger, and brought them up to speed.

          "I knew Roxton's death had to have more of a devastating impact on Marguerite than she was letting on," Challenger said.

          "We'll just have to go find her," said Veronica.

          "No," Challenger said, examining Malone's ear, "Malone needs to get a fresh bandage on this wound, and we should try to disinfect it as well. You take him back to the treehouse, Veronica, I'll track down Marguerite."

          "I don't like this," Veronica told him, "she could be dangerous."

          "There's no evidence that Marguerite was affected by the same forces that caused Roxton's irrational behavior," Challenger noted, "I'm sure she's just emotionally distraught, I'll handle it."

          Without any further dialogue, Challenger gathered his things, and started heading out, looking for Marguerite.

          After several minutes, Veronica had packed up the rest of their supplies.

          "Alright," she instructed Malone, "let's start heading back."

          "No," Malone said, "I'll be okay. Go help Challenger try to track down Marguerite."

          "Malone," Veronica told him firmly, "don't try to be a hero."

          "It's not that bad," Malone said, "I can walk just fine."

          "We'll see about that," Veronica challenged.

          "Yes we will," Malone said, "as we look for Marguerite."

          At the cave, Marguerite had confronted the Piper. "Ah," he said, "I see Lord Roxton's provided one alive. Now you can help him bring three dead back to me."

          "The only one dead is Lord Roxton," Marguerite told him.

          "Don't believe all that you see," the Piper advised.

          Once again, he brought his flute to his lips, and played five simple notes.

          When Marguerite left the cave, Roxton was there. He kissed her.

          "We're together now my love," he told her.

          "Just like we always wanted," Marguerite told him.

          "They'll come looking for you," Roxton said.

          "Of course," said Marguerite, "that's what makes them weak."

          "Let's go," Roxton said and they walked off to hunt down their friends.

          Malone and Veronica walked along one of the jungle's paths. They were moving slowly for Malone's sake, but reasoned that they were not too far behind Challenger.

          "What's your plan for when we find them?" Malone asked.

          "I don't know," Veronica said honestly.

          "I think we should stick together," Malone said.

          "No," Veronica argued, "you're in no shape to put up a fight. When we find Challenger and Marguerite, you hang back and let me take care of it."

          "What makes you think there's going to be a fight?" Malone asked.

          "I've just got a feeling," Veronica told him.

          Hidden within the thick flora around them was Roxton—watching carefully, sizing up the situation. He then glided his way through the mere feet of jungle between the path and a clearing on the other side of a long strip of towering trees. Foolishly wondering through the clearing was the scientist. Roxton instructed Marguerite to stay in the trees as he took out Challenger. Marguerite would then be able to attack Malone and Veronica if they heard the struggle from the other side of the forested area.

          Challenger was walking along, when he heard a whistle. He stopped and began looking around. As soon as his back was toward the jungle, Roxton charged, smacking into Challenger's backside and knocking him to the ground. Roxton drew one of his pistols, and waited for Challenger to look up and get a good look at his face.

          Challenger's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. A look of fear settled in on his face, and he gulped.

          "No," he shouted, anxiety stricken, "not you, you can't be alive!"

          "Come on, old boy," Roxton said with a smile, "time to pay the Piper."

          Roxton cocked his pistol, and his finger started to pull the trigger as he smiled treacherously. A bead of sweat rolled down Challenger's face; he could not actually believe what his friend was about to do.

          Just feet away, with only a few trees and bushes separating them from Challenger, were Veronica and Malone. Veronica heard enough to recognize the voice of George Challenger. Something was wrong, and she was ready to move fast and take action. Malone jumped back, as Veronica swiftly left his side and dashed off into the jungle brush.

          "Veronica," he called, "wait!" Malone stepped through the jungle trying to find her again—instead he found something else.

          "Going somewhere, Malone," Marguerite said, her eyes bulging wildly as she stuck the butt of her rifle into Malone's chest. Malone sighed and bowed his head, recognizing this behavior, and realizing his defeat.

          "You too, huh?" Malone asked her.

          "Oh, shut up Malone," Marguerite instructed, "and get on your knees."

          Malone began to kneel down, and Marguerite smacked him with the butt of her rifle once more.

          "Hands behind your back," she demanded.

          "Listen," Malone pleaded, "I don't know what's gotten into you, or Roxton before he died, but you don't have to act like this."

          "Roxton's alive," Marguerite informed him.

          "What?" Malone said.

          Marguerite was not looking for more conversation though. Malone was in front of her, his back turned to her, on his knees, holding his hands behind his back. Marguerite raised her rifle, taking aim. Malone knew what was going on because he could see her gun being drawn by her faint and scattered shadow, barely there because of the thick cover the tropical trees provided. Marguerite had an easy shot at the back of Malone's head. Malone could do nothing, so he closed his eyes and braced himself for a quick death.

          Meanwhile, Veronica faced Roxton, not knowing how he was alive, but determined to change that. Her first priority was to lure him away from Challenger, so that he would be safe. 

Roxton was furious that Veronica had intervened at all, and he was hoping to shoot her up good. However, Roxton knew that it would be tough to do that because Veronica was a smart warrior, who moved quickly and could very well dodge a full round of bullets if he was not careful. When he heard the gunshot, Roxton did not care, but Veronica did, and as soon as Roxton saw Marguerite appear blowing the smoke away from the tip of her rifle, he knew his opportunity to get Veronica would be forthcoming.

          "Malone," Veronica realized that Marguerite had just shot him, "No!"

          As he anticipated, the distraction was enough for Roxton to try an attack. He quickly raised his pistol and fired at Veronica, aiming for her heart.

          Veronica reacted quickly—working strictly off of instinct now, but she did not react quickly enough. She managed to dodge the fatal hit, but still took the bullet in her calf. She limped to run from Roxton who walked toward her cocking his pistol again. Marguerite kneeled down and began to take aim with her rifle. Veronica quickly pulled out one of her knives and threw it at Marguerite. Her accuracy was perfect, and the knife smacked into the wooden handle of the rifle, knocking it from Marguerite's hand.

          Roxton was next. He fired a shot at Veronica head, but she was able to duck and avoid it. She quickly rose, pulled out another knife and threw at Roxton, but as she threw it, the pain from her wound caught up to her, and she faltered just as she released the knife. Roxton had cleverly arranged himself between Veronica and Challenger. The knife came at him quickly, but was a little off target, and easy for Roxton to side step and avoid. The knife kept going with a deadly velocity, and hit Challenger instead, right near the heart.

          Veronica gasped, wincing in pain. Tears began to form in her eyes. She failed; Challenger and Malone were dead. She was too wounded to run anywhere, and she was fresh out of knives—while Roxton and Marguerite, had plenty of bullets.

          Then, all of the sudden, as if in a fairy tail, everything changed; the sky became dark as the moon eclipsed the sun, and all of her friends vanished in the blink of an eye. Veronica was alone. She rose to her feet, her wound still there, but no longer hurting. She heard the faint sound of a flute playing. She strained her ears to figure out where it was coming from, but it seemed to come from everywhere. Then, as if not in control of her body, Veronica stared up at the eclipsed sun. Seconds later, everything went black, all became silent, and finally her thoughts simply shut off.

**_To Be Continued…_**


	2. Familar Story

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know it's been a while since I updated, and for that I am sorry. However, the events of this chapter will make much more sense if you go back to chapter one and refresh your memory. There are a lot of little details that, as the story progresses, will prove vital. Thanks for reading, and thanks for your patients as I have struggled to finish this second chapter. BTW, feedback is always welcome and greatly appreciated!

          Veronica woke up. She hesitated to open her eyes.

          _It's going to be lighter than usual today_, she thought, _I think I slept in_.

          Taking a few deep breaths, Veronica slowly opened her eyes, and sure enough, she found that she had indeed slept in about two hours later than normal. She had always kept a very consistent routine, and did not sleep in. There was no reason for Veronica to need more rest today. However, that was not what concerned her.

          _How could I possibly know that without opening my eyes?_ she wondered.

          Veronica shook off the unusual feeling and promptly got dressed and walked into the kitchen to get some fruit for breakfast. Malone, who was sitting at the table, bolted up immediately when he saw Veronica.

          "Veronica," Malone said excitedly, "I took your advice and made some abstract sketches to go along with my journals to add depth and all that stuff we were talking about. Wanna see?"

          Veronica was about to reply, when Malone quickly continued.

          "You've seen these already. Haven't you?" Malone somehow knew.

          He looked up to see Veronica nod, a look of déjà vu bringing a spooky atmosphere to the scene.

          "But that's impossible," Malone reasoned, "I just finished them this morning, and nobody's seen them yet."

          "It's strange," Veronica agreed, "I… I can't explain it, but I swear I've seen your sketches before."

          "And I could swear that I showed them to you, even though I know that I didn't." Some frustration was present in Malone's voice, but he decided to clear that out of his mind and focus on the strong déjà vu feeling that he and Veronica shared. "Here," Malone said picking up a piece of paper, "this was the first sketch I was planning on showing you. Can you tell me what's on the other side of the paper?"

          At first, Veronica gave Malone a look as if to call him crazy, but then, amazingly, she realized that his idea might not be so crazy.

          "Actually," she told him, "I think I can." She closed her eyes and focused, "It's centered around a tree, and is very detailed with the background images—trees, flowers, other plants, slopes in the terrain and all that."

          "That's incredible, you've just described my picture with complete accuracy," Malone said in awe, but then regained his curious composure, "how about the next one?"

          "It's the waterfall," Veronica said, her eyes still closed as she put forth concentration to pull the image from deep within her mind, "The site where we… where we lost Summerlee."

          "I don't believe this," Malone said in shock; both of them knew that Veronica's description was right on once again, "this can't be just a coincidence."

          "It's not," Veronica said, "it's… Well, I don't know what it is."

          Malone shook his head, still in disbelief, "And I suppose you can tell me all about my last sketch too?"

          "Yes," Veronica confirmed, closing her eyes again to focus, "it's of a dinosaur—a Raptor. It looks so real… it's almost terrifying—just like the real thing."

          "Pretty good review," Malone said, pleased with the compliment.

          "Especially for a picture I've never seen before," Veronica told him.

          "Maybe we should tell Challenger about all of this," Malone offered.

          "Yes," Veronica agreed, "hopefully he can tell us what's going on."

          After bringing Challenger up to speed, the three explorers had to figure out what to do next.

          "That is curious," Challenger told them, "you know, when I was working in my lab, I was able to successfully predict the outcome of all my experiments…"

          "That's not so unusual," Veronica mused.

          "Yes…" Challenger trailed off, "but it is highly unlikely. I wonder if Marguerite and Roxton are experiencing these feelings of déjà vu as well."

          "Maybe we should go find them," Malone suggested.

          "I think that would be the wisest way to proceed," Challenger agreed.

          "Speaking of those two," Veronica said, noticing their absence for the first time, "where are they?"

          "Hm… oh," Challenger responded, "the went out on a picnic."

          "A picnic," Veronica repeated uneasily, "uh-oh…"

          "Do you suddenly have a sick feeling in your stomach?" Malone asked Veronica.

          "That's it," she told him, "but how did you…"

          "I've got the same feeling," Malone said quickly.

          "Well," Challenger said, "_I've_ got a feeling that we better hurry."

          The explorers gathered their supplies and rushed out of the treehouse to look for their friends.

          Roxton and Marguerite were sitting in a quiet, shady spot of the jungle near their picnic basket. Their breakfast picnic had been done for several hours, and the two were just talking now, and maybe more amazingly, as the conversation went on, they were getting along. Still, after many hours, the dialogue had started to lag, and there were casual silences in between topics of small talk. During one of these gaps in the conversation, something happened. Marguerite coughed, gagged, and made a very sour face. Roxton looked at her, startled and alarmed.

          "I think I just swallowed a mosquito," she gasped.

          "Here Marguerite," Roxton offered, "why don't you have a little water."

          Marguerite rose and backed away from Roxton.

          "Well," Roxton asked, "what's the matter?"

          "Don't you come near me with that water!" Marguerite exclaimed.

          "Well, I just thought that some water would help you…"

          Marguerite rolled her eyes, "It's not that. You were going to spill that water all over me."

          "Now why would I do that?" Roxton asked, "Come on, Marguerite, don't be ridiculous."

          "Ridiculous?" Marguerite repeated, "Fine. Go ahead, reach out with the canteen as if you were going to hand it to me."

          "This is crazy…" Roxton was saying.

          "Just do it," Marguerite insisted.

          Roxton sighed and obeyed. Sure enough, as he reached out with the full canteen, using both hands to support its weight, he violently bumped his right forearm into his knee and splattered water all over the ground where Marguerite was just sitting.

          "How did you know that was going to happen?" Roxton asked her.

          "I don't know," Marguerite told him, "I just did."

          The two would not have much more time to discuss the highly improbable incident that just occurred. Before anything else could be discussed, a high-pitched sound came flowing into their ears.

          "Is that a flute?" Marguerite asked, hearing the high-pitched tone.

          "I think it is," Roxton agreed, rising to his feet, "the question is, where's it coming from?"

          "There's nobody around here is there?" Marguerite asked.

          Roxton looked around. "Look," he pointed, "there's a cave over there at the base of that hill."

          "That must be where it's coming from," Marguerite reasoned.

          "Let's go find out," Roxton ventured.

          The two walked toward the cave, but something was not right. At first, neither of them noticed it. Then they each got that sickening feeling in their stomachs, a natural warning of sorts. They stopped in front of the cave entrance, and Marguerite finally put their awkward feeling into words.

          "The sound isn't getting any louder," Marguerite said, "it still sounds so distant."

          "Yes," Roxton said, realizing she was right, "you stay out here, I'll go look around and make sure it's safe."

          Marguerite sighed, rolled her eyes, crossed her arms and leaned against the rocky border of the cave. She would wait for Roxton to check things out. Even though she came off as being incredibly annoyed, Marguerite found it touching (in a way) how Roxton was always working to protect her. Over protective, sure, but it was flattering, and she knew that she was lucky to have someone who cared so much.

          She waited patiently, but found that she was actually incredibly impatient by nature. Of course, she wouldn't just go busting in there for no reason; Roxton would go insane.

          As she was standing there, Marguerite was hit with a wave of panic. Something wasn't quite right. Roxton was the one in danger, not her. She didn't know how or why, or what it all it meant, but she knew that Roxton was in some kind of danger. Marguerite did not know what she could do, but she couldn't just stand there. So, she walked into the cave.

          "One and three?" Roxton asked, not understanding what that meant.

          "Yes," the Pied Piper repeated, " you will bring me one person alive, and three persons dead."

          "Roxton," Marguerite said in shock, "what is he talking about?"

          "Why I," Roxton said, "I don't know Marguerite. What are you doing here?"

          Marguerite looked at the Piper, and she got another "bad feeling." "Roxton," she told him, "we've got get out of here!"

          "Yes," Roxton agreed, getting a similar sense of dejá vu, "we must get away from this man."

          The Piper smiled cynically, and shook his head slightly. He put his flute to his lips and played a few simple notes.

          "John," Marguerite said, "he's not playing, but the sound's still there. It won't stop. I…" 

          "The music," Roxton said, "… it just keeps repeating… those five notes, over and over."

          "Yes," the Piper said simply.

          Roxton became uneasy; he took a few steps backward. Marguerite put her hands over her ears and dropped to her knees.

          Marguerite on her knees, Roxton thought, there's a new one. But his thoughts quickly returned to the five musical notes that stuck to his brain like cobwebs.

          "Make it stop," Roxton pleaded, "I can't… I can't take it. Make it…"

          "…stop," finished Marguerite, although equally frantic in her tone of voice.

          The Piper laughed. Roxton was becoming increasingly aggravated, as was Marguerite.

"Do not fight it," the Piper instructed them, "embrace it. Let the music control you—guide you. You must pay; I am owed. 'Marguerite' here is the one I got alive, but you must both work together now to bring me three dead."

Roxton and Marguerite walked out of the cave, and headed to a place where they knew they could find three people, their only guarantee, the treehouse.

          Before arriving at the treehouse, Roxton and Marguerite heard familiar voices. It was their friends. Ordinarily they might be interested as to why they had left the treehouse, but at this particular time, the only thing on these two's minds was following orders; bring these three, Malone, Challenger, and Veronica, back to the Piper so that he could kill them.

          Veronica, Challenger, and Malone walked along the jungle path, and were surprised when Marguerite and Roxton popped up out of the surrounding jungle.

          "Marguerite, Roxton," Challenger said, not hiding a sense of relief he felt in the tone of his voice, "thank goodness you're alright."

          "Yes," said Roxton, thrown off because he had expected to be greeted as the enemy.

          "We're doing just fine," Marguerite added.

          "Now," Roxton said, "why don't you come with us? There's something I think all of you should see."

          "Where are we going?" Veronica asked suspiciously; something did not seem right.

          "It's a surprise," Marguerite baited.

          "Why don't you just stop playing games and tell us?" Malone demanded.

          "We're taking you to a cave where you will be killed by the Pied Piper," Roxton said plainly.

          Challenger laughed and Veronica and Malone cautiously smiled, clearly not amused by the apparent joke.

          After a few seconds they noticed that Roxton and Marguerite did not join in on the laughter of the others.

          Malone clutched his rifle and hesitantly began to raise it. "I don't think that's a joke," Malone said.

          Roxton was not so hesitant in bringing weapons into the conflict. He raised his rifle and shot at Malone. Malone jerked his head to his left to dodge the bullet, but got hit in the ear and collapsed to the ground.

          Veronica kneeled down to tend to Malone. "Malone," she asked frantically, "are you alright?"

          "I'm fine," Malone said. However, after he gingerly touched his ear and was the blood on his hand, Malone's facial expressions did not support this declaration.

          Roxton was quick to gloat, "You are weak compared to us," he said, "you cannot resist us, so why don't you allow Marguerite and I to escort you to the site of your brutal deaths?"

          _First he shoots Malone and now he's going to brag about it, Veronica thought, __it's—it's like he's not even human anymore!_

          "You monster!" Veronica shouted at Roxton, who merely laughed in response.

          In a flash of rage, Veronica pulled out one of her knives and struck Roxton in the heart.

          Roxton fell to his knees, but his face was illuminated with a devious smile. "You can't win," he told them. Only Roxton realized, as he fell to unconscious to the ground, that the Piper's influence changed him so that it was virtually impossible for him to die.

          "Veronica," Challenger gasped, "what have you done?"

          "I defended us!" Veronica replied sharply.

          "You killed Roxton! And why, is it because Malone was shot?" Challenger asked angrily.

          "Yes," Veronica said, "it's always been about survival, Challenger, and I definitely value Malone's life over whatever it is that's turned Roxton into that.

          "Now don't you go defending yourself, Veronica," Challenger lectured, "the influence over Roxton and Marguerite could be reversible…"

          Veronica shook her head, and cut off Challenger, "Look," she noted, "Marguerite's slipped away."

          "I've got to go look for her," Challenger said, "Veronica, use Malone's vest to bandage that wound. I'll stop Marguerite."

          Challenger ran off, and Veronica swiftly cut up Malone's green vest and wrapped it around his head.

          "Are you okay?" Veronica questioned, "Can you walk?"

          Malone nodded. "Good," Veronica said, "but I'm not taking you back to the treehouse. I've got to find Challenger before Marguerite hurts him."

          "I'm right behind you," Malone said, rising to his feet.

          Veronica smiled, "Let's go."

          "Wait…" Malone said, beginning to look around.

          "What is it?" Veronica asked, concerned.

          "There's your knife," Malone pointed out, "but where's Roxton's body?"

          The two need no words to know that they had both concluded that Roxton somehow survived Veronica's "fatal blow."

          "We've got to hurry!" Veronica exclaimed uneasily.

          Veronica and Malone began to walk swiftly, heading in the direction of Challenger and Marguerite… and perhaps Roxton too.

Challenger's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. A look of fear settled in on his face, and he gulped.

          "No," he shouted, anxiety stricken, "not you, you can't be alive!"

          "Come on, old boy," Roxton said with a smile, "time to pay the Piper."

          Roxton cocked his pistol, and his finger started to pull the trigger as he smiled treacherously. A bead of sweat rolled down Challenger's face; he could not actually believe what his friend was about to do.

          Just feet away, with only a few trees and bushes separating them from Challenger, were Veronica and Malone. 

          _I hear voices, Veronica thought to herself, __very faint, but not far away. And one of them is Challenger. It sounds like he's screaming or yelling. That can't be good. I don't have much time._

Malone jumped back, as Veronica swiftly left his side and dashed off into the jungle brush.

          "Veronica," he called, "wait!"

          _Sorry, Malone, Veronica thought, hearing him, but unable to sacrifice Challenger's life to make Malone feel more at ease. _

          Roxton threw his head back and laughed wickedly—pulling the trigger of his pistol ever so slowly, reveling in the moment.

          _I've got to time this right… Veronica thought as she leapt into action. She came swinging from a vine out of the trees and into the clearing._

          "Oh no you don't!" she shouted.

          Letting go of the vine, Veronica swooped down and was able to knock Roxton's hand to the side, just as the gun discharged. The bullet narrowly missed Challenger's head. Challenger remained on the ground, breathing heavy, trying to regain his composure, but his old muscles wouldn't let him move.

          "You lose!" Veronica shouted at Roxton.

          Roxton's eyes widened, a scowl forming on his face. How dare this woman interrupt him. The old man could not get far, and Roxton would put this wily little thing in her place first.

          "We'll see about that," Roxton responded bitterly to Veronica.

          _Yes we will, Veronica thought, betting heavily on her ability to beat Roxton in battle._

          Seconds later, they heard a gun shot. Then Marguerite emerged from the jungle and into the clearing, cocky in demeanor and blowing the smoke away from the tip of her rifle.

          _Marguerite came from the jungle, Veronica began piecing together what must have just happened in her head, __the jungle between me and… Malone! Oh no… He probably tried to follow me and stepped in there. And Marguerite was waiting._

          "Malone," Veronica shouted, "No!"

          This distraction was enough for Roxton to move. He quickly raised his pistol and fired at Veronica, aiming for her heart.

          Veronica reacted quickly—working strictly off of instinct now, but she did not react quickly enough. She managed to dodge the fatal hit, but still took the bullet in her calf. She limped to run from Roxton who walked toward her cocking his pistol again. Marguerite kneeled down and began to take aim with her rifle. Veronica quickly pulled out one of her knives and threw it at Marguerite. Her accuracy was perfect, and the knife smacked into the wooden handle of the rifle, knocking it from Marguerite's hand.

          Roxton was next. He fired a shot at Veronica's head, but she was able to duck and avoid it. She quickly rose, pulled out another knife and threw it at Roxton, but as she threw it, the pain from her wound caught up to her, and she faltered just as she released the knife. Roxton had cleverly arranged himself between Veronica and Challenger. The knife came at him quickly, but was a little off target, and easy for Roxton to side step and avoid. The knife kept going with a deadly velocity, and hit Challenger instead, right near the heart.

          Veronica gasped, wincing in pain. Tears began to form in her eyes. She failed; Challenger and Malone were dead. She was too wounded to run anywhere, and she was fresh out of knives—while Roxton and Marguerite, had plenty of bullets.

          Then, all of the sudden, as if in a fairy tail, everything changed; the sky became dark as the moon eclipsed the sun, and all of her friends vanished in the blink of an eye. Veronica was alone. She rose to her feet, her wound still there, but no longer hurting. She heard the faint sound of a flute playing. She strained her ears to figure out where it was coming from, but it seemed to come from everywhere. Then, as if not in control of her body, Veronica stared up at the eclipsed sun. Seconds later, everything went black, all became silent, and finally her thoughts simply shut off.

**_To Be Continued…_**


	3. Catching on

          Veronica's eyes shot open and she leaped out of bed. She quickly ascertained that the sun was brighter than normal, and she had the immediate sense that something was wrong. She felt like she had—information, instinctual senses in her head, instincts stronger than even she had on a regular basis. As she hurried to put on her clothes, she knew that whatever was happening, something was wrong. She somehow knew that things would only get worse, and that gave her a sick feeling in her stomach.

          "Malone!" she called, as she ran out of her room, knowing that he would be the first person to greet her this morning.

          Challenger was working on experiments in his lab. He had set them up the previous night, and woke up very earlier this morning to analyze the results.

          "And the calcium chloride," he told himself, as he scribbled his findings in a journal, "also had no reaction with the specimen."

          Challenger caught a glance over all his notes from this morning. He noted that, so far, all of the eleven hypotheses that he had made this morning _before_ looking at the samples had turned out to be correct. The occurrence of such a happening had a very low probability, and Challenger suspected that something was off-kilter. He focused on the bizarre factor he associated with the plateau as he tried to unravel this little mystery. Suddenly, he was able to break down some kind of wall in his mind. His eyes widened. He dropped his pencil and his journal and ran upstairs to Veronica and Malone.

          "Challenger," Malone said spotting him immediately, "you need to see this! I made these sketches, and Veronica's describing them in perfect detail, yet…"

          "…she's never even seen them before," Challenger finished.

          "How did you know that?" Veronica asked.

          "Something strange is afoot here," Challenger replied.

          "There is," Veronica agreed, "I got the sense of it this morning."

          "Even I feel like I've been hit with a deadly case of déjà vu," Malone added.

          "The question is," Challenger stated, "what do we do about these strong feelings of déjà vu?"

          The three sat and thought quietly. Throughout the treehouse there was a tense mood, as all of them got the sense that something was, or was going to be, terribly wrong.

          "Now go," the Piper instructed, "go and bring me three dead."

          Roxton and Marguerite walked robotically out of the cave. Once they reached the daylight just outside of the cave they stopped, and exchanged a cynical look.

          "The treehouse?" Marguerite asked seductively, implying that the treehouse is where they would go and find three explorers to return to the Piper… dead.

          Roxton nodded with a smile stretched across his face, and the two began walking down the jungle path toward the treehouse.

          "We can't just sit here," Veronica said in frustration, "we have to leave."

          "Got a bad feeling?" Malone asked. Veronica nodded. "Me too," he sighed and shook his head.

          "We all have a bad feeling," Challenger surmised, implying that he too didn't feel sitting around in the treehouse was the best course of action, "but where do we go?"

          Veronica put her head down on the table, trying to think. This whole situation seemed so familiar, but she needed to break down the walls inside her head to figure out what was coming next. She was successful, and bolted her head up.

          "We need to find Roxton and Marguerite," Veronica stated firmly, "where are they?"

          "They went to go have a picnic," Malone replied, "they didn't say where."

          "No," Challenger confirmed, "they didn't. But I agree with Veronica, we should all be together. We might as well start searching."

          The three explorers promptly gathered their supplies and headed out. After several minutes of walking along one of the jungles many paths, Malone stopped. Soon after, Veronica and Challenger halted as well, and turned back.

          "What is it Malone?" asked Veronica, worried because this too, seemed familiar.

          "I don't know," he said slowly, delicately rubbing his right ear, "my ear hurts. Feels like it got ripped off or something."

          "Roxton," Veronica said, "Roxton is… going to shoot you."

          "What?" Challenger demanded, "how can you say that? That's mad!"

          "No," Malone corrected, "I don't know that it is. I couldn't put my finger on it before, but after she said that, I realize that I think that's something that has happened to me before."

          Veronica shook her head and her face crinkled in frustration. "None of this makes any sense," she thought aloud, "what is going on here?"

          "If I had to offer a guess," Challenger began, "I would theorize that we are somehow caught in some sort of a causality loop."

          "In English?" asked Malone.

          "It means that something, we don't know what," Challenger explained, "caused time to repeat itself over and over. Whenever we reach a certain point, time resets itself to the beginning of this day. Given our bouts of déjà vu, we have probably already played out the events of today and however many days this thing lasts, several times."

          "How many?" Veronica wondered.

          "It is difficult to determine," Challenger said, "theoretically we could have been living and re-living this period of time for years."

          "Years!" Malone exclaimed, astounded by the thought.

          "Yes," Challenger reiterated, "but that's not what troubles me. Every time we begin the time loop again, we lose our memory of what happened in previous loops. While we seem to have fragments, our déjà vu, carry over, we cannot take information that we learn in this loop over and onto the next."

          "In other words," Veronica summarized, "we had better figure out what's going on and stop it now, before we have to start from scratch."

          Marguerite came down the elevator and greeted Roxton at the front of the treehouse. "There's nobody up there," she informed him.

          "I see." Roxton said.

          "What should we do now?" Marguerite asked.

          Roxton didn't even give it much thought, "Let's circle back. I don't know what will find exactly, but any man we see," he said, cocking the rifle he clenched firmly, "dies."

          Veronica, Malone, and Challenger had decided to continue searching for their picnicking comrades. They were all worried because they all shared the gut instinct that told them Marguerite and Roxton would only add to their problems once they found them.

          "How's your ear feeling, Malone?" Veronica asked.

          "It's not getting any better," Malone responded, "in fact, I'd swear the pain's getting worse."

          Veronica looked at Malone's ear, "Oh my god," she stammered out slowly, "it's… it's actually bleeding."

          "What," Challenger exclaimed, and moved over to Malone to examine the phenomenon himself, "that… that's not possible."

          "Well, professor," Veronica said, "isn't it rumored that if your mind believes you're injured, you will actually will be."

          "It's a theory that has been proposed," Challenger admitted, "but there's nothing to back up those preposterous claims."

          "I guess now we ought to bandage it," Veronica said.

          Challenger nodded in agreement, "Yes. Veronica why don't you go ahead and do that; in the meantime, I don't like the idea of sitting here waiting to be attacked, I'll go scout ahead a ways."

          It was a good thought, and Veronica knew it, "Be careful," she shouted, as Challenger stepped into the surrounding jungle.

          Roxton and Marguerite traversed ground fast. They weren't running, but they seemed to glide through the jungle at a rapid pace, and strangely the influence of the Piper's music prevented them from feeling any fatigue. They came to an abrupt halt, though, when Roxton heard something moving through an area of dense jungle a few feet off from the clearing they were in now. Roxton moved in closer and Marguerite followed.

          "The old man," Roxton concluded after a few silent moments, "why don't you head over there and whistle a little ditty."

           Marguerite did just that, and apparently it worked because not soon after she began, Challenger emerged from the heavy jungle brush. Roxton shadowed him, remaining undetected until Challenger was in the middle of the clearing.

          "Stay right where you are," Roxton commanded, reinforcing his orders by pointing his rifle right at Challenger's head, "and turn around slowly."

          Challenger did so and gasped, "Roxton," he asked, clumsily stumbling to the ground in his shock and dismay, "what in god's name are you doing?"

          "Paying the Piper," Roxton said with a deceitful chagrin, then he looked at Marguerite, "the others must be nearby. Find them."

          Marguerite disappeared into the thick flora in which Challenger had just emerged, petting her weapon as if it were a little puppy dog.

          "There," Veronica said, "Better?"

          "Not pain wise," Malone said honestly, "but at least the blood won't stain my elegant shirt."

          Veronica, for the first time in hours laughed, but her mood wouldn't last for long. She quickly drew a straight face.

          "Something's wrong," she said.

          "What is it?" Malone asked, very concerned.

          "I'm not sure," Veronica said, "stay here, I'm going to go find Challenger."

          Roxton threw his head back and laughed wickedly—pulling the trigger of his pistol ever so slowly, reveling in the moment.

          Veronica came swinging from a vine out of the trees and into the clearing.

          "Oh no you don't!" she shouted.

          Letting go of the vine, Veronica swooped down and was able to knock Roxton's hand to the side, just as the gun discharged. The bullet narrowly missed Challenger's head. Challenger remained on the ground, breathing heavy, trying to regain his composure, but his old muscles wouldn't let him move.

          "You lose!" Veronica shouted at Roxton.

          Roxton's eyes widened, a scowl forming on his face. How dare this woman interrupt him. The old man could not get far, and Roxton would put this wily little thing in her place first.

          "We'll see about that," Roxton responded bitterly to Veronica.

          Seconds later, they heard a gun shot. Then Marguerite emerged from the jungle and into the clearing, cocky in demeanor and blowing the smoke away from the tip of her rifle.

          "Malone," Veronica realized that Marguerite, who was mysteriously missing from the scene before, had just shot him, "No!"

          This distraction was enough for Roxton to move. He quickly raised his pistol and fired at Veronica, aiming for her heart.

          Veronica reacted quickly—working strictly off of instinct now, but she did not react quickly enough. She managed to dodge the fatal hit, but still took the bullet in her calf. She limped to run from Roxton who walked toward her cocking his pistol again. Marguerite kneeled down and began to take aim with her rifle. Veronica quickly pulled out one of her knives and threw it at Marguerite. Her accuracy was perfect, and the knife smacked into the wooden handle of the rifle, knocking it from Marguerite's hand.

          Roxton was next. He fired a shot at Veronica's head, but she was able to duck and avoid it. She quickly rose, pulled out another knife and threw at Roxton, but as she threw it, the pain from her wound caught up to her, and she faltered just as she released the knife. Roxton had cleverly arranged himself between Veronica and Challenger. The knife came at him quickly, but was a little off target, and easy for Roxton to side step and avoid. The knife kept going with a deadly velocity, and hit Challenger instead, right near the heart.

          Veronica gasped, wincing in pain. Tears began to form in her eyes. She failed; Challenger and Malone were dead. She was too wounded to run anywhere, and she was fresh out of knives—while Roxton and Marguerite, had plenty of bullets.

          Then, all of the sudden, as if in a fairy tail, everything changed; the sky became dark as the moon eclipsed the sun, and all of her friends vanished in the blink of an eye. Veronica was alone. She rose to her feet, her wound still there, but no longer hurting. She heard the faint sound of a flute playing. She strained her ears to figure out where it was coming from, but it seemed to come from everywhere. Then, as if not in control of her body, Veronica stared up at the eclipsed sun. Seconds later, everything went black, all became silent, and finally her thoughts simply shut off.

**_To Be Continued…_**


	4. The Pigeon's Nest

          Veronica's eyes shot open, she sprang from her bed, shedding her blankets and jumping to her feet. She had a strange feeling pass over her—almost like an overwhelming barrage of déjà vu, she could not offer justification for her actions, but as she stood their in attack poise, she screamed.

          Seconds later, Veronica's companion Edward T. Malone came bolting into her room, alarmed by her screams. He stopped at the doorway and stared at her. Veronica knew that Malone could recognize her predator stance, but she figured he was probably wondering why she stood there unclothed. After staring blankly for several seconds, Malone quickly looked away. He covered his eyes and smiled sheepishly, the shade of red that splashed across his face showed his embarrassment.

          "I heard you scream," Malone said, "I thought something might be wrong."

          "Something is wrong," Veronica told him, "something's very wrong…"

          With that, she threw on her clothes, armed herself and rushed to the elevator. Malone watched from the balcony as Veronica burst into the jungle on a dead sprint.

          Not oblivious to the events in the treehouse, Challenger interrupted his laboratory work and came out to the living room. He immediately spotted Malone looking out into the jungle.

          "What's going on?" Challenger demanded, "…because I have a feeling that…"

          "…that something's wrong," Malone finished.

          "Yes…" Challenger said, as he struggled to break down the walls in his mind that were revealing some information about their present situation.

          "That's what Veronica said," Malone relayed to Challenger, "just before she took off into the jungle. I think…"

          "…we better follow her," this time Challenger finished Malone's thoughts. Without another word, Challenger and Malone armed themselves and took off after Veronica. They wanted to follow her, in case she needed any further assistance.

          "Is that a flute?" Marguerite asked Roxton, as a high-pitched sound interrupted their disastrous picnic.

          "I think it is," Roxton agreed, happy that the topic of conversation shifted away from his incompetent spill, "the question is, where's it coming from?"

          "There's nobody around here is there?" Marguerite asked.

          Roxton looked around. "Look," he pointed, "there's a cave over there at the base of that hill."

          "That must be where it's coming from," Marguerite reasoned.

          "Let's go find out," Roxton ventured.

          The two walked toward the cave, but something was not right.

          "The sound isn't getting any louder," Marguerite said, "it still sounds so distant."

          "Yes," Roxton said, realizing she was right, "you stay out here, I'll go look around and make sure it's safe."

          Without warning, the shrubs lining the path around them shook violently and a bellowing voice echoed across the area.

          "WAIT!" someone shouted.

          Roxton and Marguerite both turned to see what was happening. Roxton, ready for an ambush, instinctively clenched his rifle a bit more firmly than before. To both their surprise, Veronica came leaping from the surrounding jungle.

          "Veronica?" Marguerite asked, "What are you doing here?"

          "Don't go in that cave, Roxton," Veronica warned.

          "Why?" Roxton asked simply.

          Marguerite took the follow up question, "What's in the cave?"

          "I… I don't know," Veronica conceded.

          "Then why not explore…" Roxton started slowly, confused by her presence and reaction to his curiosity.

          "No!" Veronica exclaimed, "I have this, this overpowering feeling in my gut that tells me that you, the both of you that is, must stay out of that cave. I don't know why I feel this way, I don't even know how I knew to find you here, but somehow I know that going in there is a very bad idea."

          Roxton took a moment to run the situation through his mind. Something about this whole cave business did make him nervous.

          "I think you may be right…" Roxton muttered vaguely.

          Before their conversation could continue the rest of the team made their way to the huddle. Roxton, Marguerite, and Veronica turned to watch Malone and Challenger join them, wheezing after trying to keep up with Veronica.

          "Veronica," Malone asked, "What's wrong? What's going on here?"

          She didn't know how to answer him, but Marguerite chimed in before she had the chance too. "The flute music," Marguerite observed, "it's getting louder."

          "We have to get out of here," Veronica said without hesitation.

          "Why Veronica?" Challenger needed answers.

          "There's no time to explain, Professor," Veronica said, "you just have to trust me… and run!"

          All of the others exchanged looks and knew that they had to take Veronica seriously. They all began sprinting along the jungle path, running away from the cave. After franticly charging several feet, Malone positioned himself beside Veronica.

          "How do you know all of this?" Malone asked.

          Veronica looked over at him, only to see a surprisingly horrific sight. A large and very bloody gash was on the side of Malone's head. Veronica knew this injury could not simply appear, so she closed her eyes for a couple seconds and looked at Malone again. The injury was gone.

          After a slight delay, Veronica responded to Malone's question, "It's just instinct, Malone, I can't explain it."

          "There's a large clearing ahead," Roxton, who had found his way to the front of the pack, announced, "we should position ourselves there in case we are ambushed by attackers of some sort."

          Once they reached the clearing Veronica became alarmed. The sky darkened and not long afterward she stopped running and turned. The first thing she noticed was that her friends were suspended in peak running stride. Normally, she would walk up to them to inspect this strange phenomenon, but there was also the matter of the darkened sky. 

She looked up and noticed that the moon was positioned in front of the sun, leaving only a small rim of bright, piercing sunlight left to illuminate the mid-morning sky. Veronica found this strange, as Challenger was not anticipating an eclipse of any kind to be coming to the plateau soon. There was a force of some kind that tempted her to look at eclipse, but a tinge of fear allowed her to fight the notion.

Helping her overcome the urge to stare at the solar phenomenon was a noise—a small hissing sound. Veronica stared out into the shaded clearing. A big cloud of glistening purple smoke was steam rolling toward her. As the fast moving smoke reached Veronica, it halted its progress. It was then that it became clear that a man was riding the smoke cloud. A small, pudgy man wearing a purple tuxedo leaped from his floating perch on the cloud. Shortly afterward, the steam dissipated.

"Greetings," the man announced, "I am the Pied Piper!"

"The Pied Piper?" Veronica was confused, "shouldn't you be wooing rats away?"

The Piper smiled, but did not respond to her question directly. "Your confusion is only natural. But think Veronica, do I seem at all familiar to you?"

"Actually," Veronica began to her own surprise, "you do seem oddly familiar… yet I know for a fact we've never met before."

"No," the Piper confirmed, "this is our first formal introduction. Tell me, how do you like my music?"

Veronica hadn't even noticed, but the music had never ceased. She finally took some time to let her ears absorb the repetitive notes.

"It's beautiful," she admitted distantly, "enchanting in some sense…"

"The only thing I find enchanting is you," the Piper said softly.

Veronica didn't even hear him. She was too busy trying to untangle the knots in her brain. There was a flood of data barricaded in her mind, but it was oozing out ever so slowly.

"Wait a minute," Veronica said, "this music is too enchanting! You used it—in the cave you used your music to gain control of Marguerite and Roxton. You told them to bring you back four people—three dead, one alive."

"Let us end this game of cat and mouse," the Piper proposed.

"But I wasn't at the cave," Veronica realized, "I shouldn't know that."

"You will not understand for quite some time," the Piper informed her, "but it is no matter. It was all a childish, foolish game; the purpose of which was to bring you to me."

Veronica did not like the sound of this, she pulled out one of her knives and held it up to the Piper defensively. "What do you want?" she asked.

"Oh, please, Veronica," the Piper said comfortably, "put the knife down." With a wave of his hand downward Veronica obeyed. "Now drop your weapon," the Piper instructed.

Again, Veronica did as he commanded. She wanted to charge the Piper, hold the knife to his throat and demand he return things back to normal, but she couldn't. There was something about him that compelled her to do as he suggested. A combination of reasons explained why: the rhythmic tune of his flute music, his soft friendly voice, and his warm smile.

"Stand still," the Piper instructed. 

He proceeded to approach her. He walked around her slowly, and Veronica simply stood there, feet shoulder to the part, arms at her side, staring straight ahead. Eventually, the Piper made his way to around back of her. He stood directly behind her and placed his smooth, dry hands on her shoulders. The Piper began running his hands up and down the silky smooth skin of her upper arms. His hands glided up and down her arms falling into the same rhythmic pattern as the Piper's flute music. This seemed relax him even more than before, calamity becoming the essence of his being. Veronica herself could not deny that the experience was stimulating on some level. The friction of his hands to her skin… it felt as if a blanket of pleasure and joy was slowly wrapping itself around her—tickling not only her skin, but her heart and her soul as well.

Still, something was terribly wrong. From what Veronica knew about the Piper, he was an evil man. And she also knew that her draw to him was not normal, yet she did nothing. It was a difficult situation for her, her body feeling as though all its' needs were being pampered to, while her mind told her that the fierce huntress in her needed to lash out and attack her enemy. The problem was that Veronica had nothing bitter to grasp onto.

As the Piper's hands continued rhythmically massaging Veronica's arms, he began to lean his head forward toward her. He used his nose to brush back some of her wild, stringy hair, enamored with the invigorating aroma. He crept so close that the hair of his bushy mustache brushed against her neck. She felt his warm breath glide down her chest.

"Veronica," the Piper whispered, "you are my deepest desire, all that I desire and long for."

Veronica spoke, with some difficulty, as her mouth had grown dry, her muscles stiff from standing in one place without a single movement. She managed to speak anyway, "Why me?" she asked, the conflict between mind and heart still clouding her ability to attain control.

"You are a goddess," the Piper told her, "truly a goddess, more so than you could ever imagine…"

Finally, Veronica saw something. It was nothing new really; it had been there, frozen before her, the entire time. However, this was the first moment that she realized it was something she could grab a hold of that wasn't pulled straight from a fairy tale.

"My friends," Veronica said, "they are frozen."

"You need not worry about that," the Piper suggested. His hands stopped massaging her arms and for the first time slid down past her elbows, over her wrist, tingling her fingers, and finally resting on her waist.

Veronica's blanket was now thoroughly wrapped around her, and its hold on her was beginning to tighten. She could not help but moan as his hands reached her waist, causing an electrifying rush to surge through her body.

"No," Veronica resisted and persisted, "they're not supposed to be like this. Free them—free my friends!"

"Your friends need not be freed," the Piper commanded firmly. He leaned forward again, twisting his head around her to look at her face to face. He placed his hand on her chin, jerking her head so that their eyes met. "I trust you understand."

A look of both confusion and concern slowly appeared on her face. She blinked quickly, breaking out of her trance and putting into perspective the potential danger they were all in, and the great power the Piper must have in order to freeze time in this way. She grabbed the Piper's thick, chubby, wrist with both hands and threw him over her shoulder onto the ground. The Piper landed with a thud, and, lying there on his back, looked up at her, unable to hide his surprise.

"No," Veronica told him angrily, "I don't understand."

The Piper was not afraid of her. His contented, close-mouthed smile stretched across his face and he closed his eyes. It was clear that he was exerting a tremendous amount of concentration. Veronica watched him curiously, still in control of herself, but not understanding what the Piper was doing. It soon became forthcoming.

Purple mist began forming around them and within minutes Veronica and the Piper found themselves standing atop the same sparkly purple cloud the Piper had so boldly rode in on. As soon as the cloud formed, they began to rise into the air. The Piper stood up slowly, not quite sure of what reaction he would get from Veronica. Before long, they were hovering higher than even the treehouse; the other explorers were now merely shadowy blips below.

"You can fly us beyond the stars if you want to," Veronica told the Piper, "but if you don't free my friends, I will kill you."

"Veronica," the Piper asked, "your clothes—are they intended to shelter you from rigid outdoor elements?"

Veronica's adrenaline level slowed, as she was having a hard time understanding the transition of topics. "No," she responded, "I wear these to…" her eyelids sagged once again, her knees locked, and her arms dropped to her side, "…I wear them because… it's… not… appro… appropriate to…" She could not finish.

"So," the Piper began calmly, "basically, all they do is mask some of your natural beauty." Veronica was once again losing the ability to control her body, she found herself nodding to the Piper's reasoning. "Well, then," he continued, "why not simply remove them?"

The Piper approached Veronica once more. He grabbed the armband she wore and gently pulled it from her. Next, he lifted her right leg, carefully removing her boot, a smooth procedure, nothing abrupt. Then, he took off her left boot. After that he untied her top. Veronica offered no resistance and each article of clothing was carelessly tossed off the magical cloud, falling to the clearing below. Finally, the Piper undid the belt to Veronica's mini-skirt and threw it back over his shoulder. Veronica was now completely in the nude. The Piper re-assumed a position behind her.

"Now," he said, using his hands to massage the back of her neck this time, "where were we…" The Piper proceeded to whisper erotic musings into her ear, while kissing random areas of her neck, cheek, and shoulder blade.

Veronica's mind was now completely disconnected from her body. She had no control of her movements, but she was thinking very clearly. She knew that the Piper was pure evil. He was controlling her somehow—not in the same way he controlled Marguerite and Roxton, though. She was able to successfully filter out the sounds of the flute. Nevertheless, he did have some sort of spell over her. The sensual feelings he inspired in her were not natural—it was as if he was able to open up her heart and stuff any feelings he wanted into it. She was adapting though, the false fulfillment the Piper interjected was no longer exciting her, and she had a very comprehensible understanding of what was going on. It was shaded to her earlier, but there was no uncertainty about it now. The Piper may have the power to make it feel like allure, but she was being violated. She did not know what she could do to interrupt his harassment, but she had no doubt that he intended to breach her to the fullest. Her body was to be his plaything, and he would touch her as no man ever had. Veronica began wishing that her fear could rescue her, but knew deep down inside that it could not. She would have to be a conscious witness to this living nightmare. Her friends frozen—as if amassed in ice. It is at this thought that her hope began to drain away, leaving a void of emptiness comparable to her lifeless, shell of a body.

To Be Continued… 


	5. Showdown

          Abigail Layton came rushing out of her treehouse bedroom, drawn out by a horrifying sound. Her daughter Veronica was screaming. She stepped out of the room, still in her nightgown, and followed Veronica's horrific shrieking to the treehouse kitchen.

          "Veronica, sweetie," she said, "what's the matter?"

          "What is that?" Veronica asked nervously.

          At first, Abigail didn't see it. "I don't see what you mean, dear."

          "There," Veronica pointed to a small rodent that was now scurrying nervously around the kitchen floor, "is it a monster? Maybe I should kill it."

          "No Veronica," Abigail instructed, "you don't need to kill anything. It's just a rat."

          "What's a rat?" the young child asked curiously, though still somewhat frightened by it.

          "Well," Abigail explained, "rats are rodents. They come into our homes looking for food."

          "How come I've never seen one before?" Veronica wondered.

          "Rats," her mother explained, "are not very commonplace in this area of the plateau. There were a few that came with us when we brought all of our supplies out here."

          Veronica turned her attention from her mother back to the rat, "If we don't kill them," she asked, "then how do we get it to go away?"

          "You are persistent with your questions aren't you?" Abigail admired Veronica for her genuine, childish, and innocent fascination with all that was around her, "I'll tell you what, how about we get your father to shoo the rat away, and you and I go visit the Zanga Village and get some breakfast? Tonight, I'll tell you a story all about rats."

          "Okay," Veronica agreed.

          That night, before tucking Veronica in, Abigail read her the story of the Pied Piper. "So, Willy, let me and you be wipers of scores out with all men -- especially pipers! And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice, if we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise!" With that, the story was finished and Abigail closed the book.

          "So," Veronica asked her mother, who had just finished the end of the tale, "the Pied Piper used his pipe music to dance the rats away from Hamelin, but after doing such a nice thing, why did he steal their children?"

          "Sometimes," Abigail told her, "in desperate times, people will say anything that they think will save them. The mayor negated on his promise to pay the piper for his service. The Pied Piper knew that was not right, so he stole the children. There is a saying, Veronica, fight fire with fire."

          "But stealing the children wasn't right, was it?" Veronica asked.

          "No," Abigail confirmed, "no that wasn't right. Still, the Pied Piper had to do something. In storybooks, people don't always have to do the right thing."

          "He still needed to get paid for chasing away the rats, though…" Veronica ventured.

          "Yes," Abigail said, "and that's why we fight fire with fire, but the Pied Piper didn't pick the best way to do that—his solution wasn't fair to the children."

          "What's the better way?" Veronica asked.

          "We'll talk about it tomorrow," Abigail said as she kissed Veronica's forehead and extinguished her lamp, "now go to sleep."

          Floating on a cloud, hovering high above the plateau, Veronica had closed her eyes as she found herself reliving a childhood memory. The Piper was in front of her, though. She could tell by his breath on her face, the only warmth she felt in the frigid night air of the high-altitude perch.

          _I can escape this,_ Veronica thought, _I just need to… fight fire with fire!_

          Veronica focused all her energy into one simple task. It took a few seconds, but she did it. She opened her eyes and stared straight into the Piper's. For the first time, she saw a sincere look of fear staring back at her. He must have seen the flames burning in her eyes. Moments later, the magical, purple cloud burst into flames and disintegrated. Veronica and the Piper began to fall, but somehow they both slowed when they approached the ground and landed softly. Veronica did not understand.

          "Stay away from me," Veronica shouted across some distance in the clearing she had from the Piper. "Stop staring!" she commanded. The Piper only smiled. "Stop!"

          Veronica decided that the Piper eying her was a violation in itself and charged. She leapt into the air, landing a drop kick right in the gut of his stomach. He lost his breath and collapsed onto the ground. Veronica straddled him, and, in a storm a fury, picked up a rock, intending to bash the Piper's skull. Instinct guiding the both of them, the Piper put up his hands to shield his face. Before she struck him with the rock, Veronica noticed something and stopped. On the palms of the Piper's hands were dozens of tiny holes, and with the darkness of the eclipsed sky, Veronica was able to determine that they were letting out a barely detectable stream of purple mist.

          "What is that?" Veronica asked, but then she went on to answer her own question, "that's how you were controlling me, isn't it?" She got up and backed away. 

"Get back," she said, the rock was still in her hand and she threatened to throw it at him.

"You have other concerns," the Piper told her, "turn around."

Veronica was in complete control of her faculties. She sensed the Piper meant business and slowly turned around. She saw Challenger, Malone, Roxton, and Marguerite, still frozen in mid-run, their mouth's sagging, as they had been breathing heavy when time was frozen. Except now she saw a slightly different picture than before. Blood was streaming from every orifice in their bodies. Blood poured out of each of their mouths, noses, eyes…

"They're dead," the Piper said coldly, with a certain amount of satisfaction in his voice as he stood up, "you're mine!"

"Noo!" Veronica shouted.

She approached him and began to strangle him. He was again afraid, and as he looked into her eyes he saw a strange sight. Her iris's each formed a triangle and her pupils stretched across the triangles to create a wavy line.

"It was you…" the Piper muttered, his voice constrained by the fierce grip of Veronica's cold fingers, "you did it. You dissolved my cloud. You have even more power than I thought… there's no limit to what you can do…"

Veronica stopped strangling him. She looked at him curiously, her eyes returning to normal. "What are you talking about?"

The Piper gulped, he was clearly nervous, but he tried to hide it. "You have nothing now. Surrender yourself to me."

"Never!" Veronica shouted. She was about to strike him when she realized something. She glanced skyward, but quickly returned her attention back to the Piper.

"There is a way out of this, isn't there?" Veronica remembered a trend, "a way for me to go back and finally do things right…"

She stepped back from the Piper and looked up at the eclipse.

"What are doing?" the Piper demanded, "stop this, at once."

Veronica did so for an instant. She looked over at the Piper. This time it was her turn to smile. He began to move toward her, but she knew he would be too late. She looked up at the eclipse in the sky, and within seconds everything around her vanished into complete blackness.

Veronica's eyes opened wide. She noticed it was dark all around her, nighttime. She was sweating and breathing heavily. She got that feeling, the one a person gets when they wake up from a nightmare. It only took her moments to realize that this was no dream. She was somehow able to disrupt the time loop. When she looked back into the eclipse, she willed herself a little extra time. She would not waste it. 

A good place to get answers in the treehouse was Challenger's lab. Veronica threw on her clothes, went there, and began quietly looking around. She wasn't quite sure what she was looking for, but suspected she'd know when she found it. Within minutes, she found what she needed. A vile of liquid labeled "Sleeping Potion." Veronica set out four beakers and proceeded to distribute the "Sleeping Potion" into them evenly. 

Then, she quietly snuck into Malone's room, then Challengers, not forgetting Marguerite and Roxton. Each explorer got a dose of the "Sleeping Potion." Veronica knew that to defeat the Piper, she would need to keep her friends safe, and deal with him one on one. He was simply too powerful and it was going to be her battle regardless. Once she knew her friends were safely tucked away in the treehouse, Veronica armed herself and proceeded toward the Piper's cave. This time loop had gone on long enough, she had witnessed her friends suffer too much. One person, just one, was going to die today, and it would either be Veronica or the man claiming to be the Pied Piper of Hamelin.

          Veronica stood in front of the Piper's cave. She took a deep breath before entering.

          _I just have to be like Marguerite,_ Veronica told herself, _…and I never thought I'd hear myself saying that._

She walked around the main little loop that essentially was the cavern and found herself right back at the entrance. The cave "looping" around in a circle seemed fitting. Still, Veronica was in no mood for games, she had to find the Piper. She decided to circle the cave once again, this time she would go clockwise as opposed to counterclockwise—she didn't know if it would make a difference, she just had to try something. This time, when she reached the back of the giant stalagmite, a doorway magically appeared. Veronica stepped through it quickly.

Once inside the small room, Veronica saw the Piper and something else—something she hadn't expected to see. The Piper was there, sitting in a little wooden chair that probably shouldn't have supported his weight cleaning his flute with a raggedy white cloth. In the room with him were dozens of children… the children of Hamelin. Veronica could not implement her plan here, not in front of all of these children. The Piper wrapped his flute in another, cleaner cloth and looked up at his visitor.

"I wasn't expecting you here…" the Piper ventured slowly.

Veronica simply smiled; a temptress's smile, and she motioned with her finger for the Piper to come with her as she slowly backed out of the room within the stalagmite. The Piper, without hesitation, rose and followed. As soon as they were both out, the doorway became solid rock once again.

_Perfect,_ Veronica thought, she could now have her showdown.

"I was not expecting you to come stumbling here on your own," the Piper said, "what do you intend to do now?" 

Veronica knew from the last time she lived this day that the Piper had a plan of his own. She seemed to catch him genuinely off guard, and he seemed to be playfully curious as to what she came here to do. For Veronica, this played perfectly into her plan. She simply smiled at him for a few moments, then she began to walk toward him slowly, yet aggressively. The Piper was excited, also nervous to some extent, almost as if he couldn't believe that Veronica was acting the way she was. Eventually, he bumped into the cave wall. Veronica kept coming. As she stopped, the Piper gulped. Veronica reached down and picked up the Piper's wrists. She pinned them up against the back of the wall, holding them there firmly. She knew he could not touch her. Then, before the Piper had a chance to perhaps realize that Veronica's actions were carefully calculated, she kissed him assertively. It was a long kiss and when it was over, the Piper was left gasping for air. Veronica herself was breathing heavy and she realized that this was the perfect opportunity to attack.

In a swift, lightning quick action, Veronica let go of the Piper's wrists and moved her hands to the back of her belt. She smiled wildly and as Veronica began to wiggle her hips, an uncharacteristic open-mouthed grin made its way to the Piper's face.

_I knew it,_ Veronica thought, _he thinks I'm undressing to give him a treat. Won't he be surprised!_

The Piper started moving his hands toward her waist, something Veronica was counting on. Instead of whipping off her skirt, Veronica whipped out two of her knives. In one sweeping motion she brought her arms up and around herself and sliced the insides of the Piper's hands. This move ended with her hands meeting above her hand. Continuing the motion, she lunged the knives forward, the tip of each blade smacking the rock face on both sides of his head.

Realizing that he was being attacked, not pleasured, the Piper clenched his fists and brought them right under his chin. He took a deep breath and with one powerful, sweeping motion of his own, he extended his arms outward. The blow sent Veronica's knives flying in each direction. She jumped back and braced herself for a fistfight.

"Why did you do that?" the Piper asked. His voice was still calm and gentle.

Veronica smiled deviously this time. "The blood will clog your little love emitters," she explained as the Piper inspected his bloody palms, "you can't control me this time."

"This time?" the Piper was confused, "what do you mea…" His demeanor changed, and that disgusting, close-mouthed smirk stretched across his face once more, "Do you think that was the extent of my power?"

"Your music won't work on me," Veronica insisted, "besides, I saw you left your flute behind."

"Sometimes," the Piper started as he reached into his coat's inside pocket, "the old tools are still the best." From his coat the Piper pulled a pipe.

Before he began to play, Veronica realized something, "You really are him, aren't you? You are the Pied Piper of Hamelin."

"Yes," the Piper confirmed, "oh, things have changed over the years," as he patted his round stomach and ran his fingers through his bushy mustache, "but it's still me." He brought his pipe up to his lips.

"What do you want with me?" Veronica asked simply. The Piper put his pipe down for a moment.

"You are…" he searched for the perfect words, "magnificent! It was right of you to approach me as you did."

"Why?" Veronica needed to know, "what do you want?"

"You are special Veronica," the Piper said, "surely you know that…"

Veronica had heard him refer to this before, but she wasn't sure what he meant. The only thing special about Veronica was that she was born and raised on the plateau. She got the sense that the Piper was talking about something more than that, though. As if she had some sort of magical ability, as he did.

"Yes," she pretended to play along in the hope of getting more answers.

"Then imagine," the Piper speculated, "what our child could do? With my magic and music and your… divinity… the three of us could rule the universe."

"You talk as if I'm some god," Veronica said, "but I'm no god."

"Technically, I suppose not," the Piper agreed, energy and excitement starting to show up in his voice, "but knowing your future, you might as well be a god, you must know that."

"All I know," Veronica said, "is that if you do manage to get me pregnant, the only thing our child won't have is afternoon visits with dear old dad."

"You hate me," the Piper realized, though it did not seem to upset him, "but I could make you so happy."

"What," Veronica asked bitterly, "once your hands heal? I don't need that kind of love… it isn't real."

"My lust for you is real," the Piper uttered softly.

"No," Veronica corrected him, pity leaking into her voice for a moment, "your lust for power is real." Her pity soon turned to rage, "And that may just be what gets you killed!"

She pulled out another knife she had on her. The Piper held out a bloody hand and put his pipe to his lips. Within in moments, he was playing that short and repetitive tune, both hands fluttering with the sound of his music.

_How pathetic,_ Veronica thought, _he thinks his music can solve all his problems._

"Your music will never control me," Veronica said.

_Not you,_ the Piper's voice somehow invaded her head. She fought to get it out, but he was right.

The doorway, more of a gateway really, to the room in the stalagmite had re-opened and the children from Hamelin started marching out. They came and formed a circle around the Piper, sanctioning him off from Veronica. The Piper placed his pipe back in his pocket, but magically those same notes kept repeating and the children's trance remained.

"Do you want me dead so badly that you would sacrifice these children?" the Piper asked Veronica, his voice still calm and smooth.

"You would let these children die," Veronica asked, upset at the notion, "for the mistakes their parents made?"

For the first time, the Piper's composure snapped. He showed anger with his raspy words, "I performed the most royal service for those people, and how do they repay me, with NOTHING!"

"Royal service?" Veronica spat sarcastically, "All you did was kill a bunch of rats."

The Piper began pulling the words from his own storybook. He was yelling, angrier than a hungry T-Rex, and his voice growing louder and louder as he viciously spewed his words of description that told of the crisis in Hamelin.

'"**Rats! They fought the dogs and killed the cats, and bit the babies in the cradles, and ate the cheeses out of the vats, and licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles, ****split open the kegs of salted sprats, made nests inside men's Sunday hats, and even spoiled the women's chats, ****by drowning their speaking with shrieking and squeaking****in fifty different ****sharps**** and ****flats**."'

"And you killed them," Veronica said, "wow. You're no hero; you're no hero at all. The only rat here is you, trying to leave a sinking ship by using your gift to manipulate anyone to give you that one fulfilling moment."

The Piper took several deep breaths, and was able to partially regain his composure. "Say what you will," he taunted, "but you don't want these children harmed. You can't get to me."

"No," Veronica reiterated, "I hate the idea of you murdering these innocent children. But you already did, so that's really just another reason for me to want you dead."

"What do you mean?" The Piper asked, again he could not hide a nervous undertone in his words.

"You took the children in 1888, didn't you?" Veronica asked.

The Piper gulped, "Why, yes, that sounds about right."

"Yes," Veronica agreed, "and that's when someone wrote down an account of what happened and made it a storybook. Nobody knew it was true, but it was."

"What are you getting at?" The Piper asked firmly, hoping to call a bluff by Veronica. Perhaps the one thing he didn't know about the untamed beauty was that Veronica didn't bluff.

"You admit you took the children in 1888," Veronica reveled in the moment of calling the Piper's bluff, "they're still children. This isn't real, it's all some sort of illusion."

And just like that, the children vanished and the music stopped. Veronica tossed her knife up into the air and caught it once more.

The Piper looked up at her sadly, realizing his defeat. "You've compromised every one of my powers," he said.

Veronica shrugged, "Rats." She threw her knife and it smacked the Piper right in the neck. Blood trickled from the wound, and she watched her adversary wither to the ground and die.

As soon as the Piper took his last breath, the cave walls began to melt around Veronica. Within moments she left the cool air of the cave and felt the warm sunlight beating on her skin. Then she watched the moon as it jutted across the sky to eclipse the sun. She stared at the phenomenon contently. Seconds later, her consciousness washed away.

Veronica opened her eyes and yawned. She slowly sat up in her bed, and was happy to see how bright it was outside. She had slept in, which was not too common for her. She remembered everything. Her encounter with the Piper turned out to be a battle of the minds. What surprised Veronica is that she won; she willed herself past all the Piper's illusions and prevented his treachery. Before heading to the kitchen, she grabbed a book off the shelf in her room. In her room was every book either of her parents ever read to her.

Veronica stepped into the kitchen and saw Malone and Challenger sitting at the table. Malone was showing Challenger his drawings. They both looked up when they spotted Veronica.

          "Veronica," Malone said excitedly, "I took your advice and made some abstract sketches to go along with my journals to add depth and all that stuff we were talking about. Wanna see?"

"Sure," she said, "but if you don't mind, I'd like to go for a swim first. I have some cobwebs in my head this morning that I want to clear out."

"That's fine," Malone said, "you do seem awfully tired."

Veronica smiled and headed toward the elevator. Before she got there, she remembered the book in her hand. She turned around.

"Oh, and Malone," she said, holding the book up, "do me a favor, this book, burn it." She slammed the book onto the table and happily skipped out of the treehouse.

"What book is that?" Challenger inquired.

Malone picked it up, turned it over, and read the title off the cover slowly, "_The Pied Piper of Hamelin_."

**_The End_**


End file.
